"You broke a Councilman's nose when he came to arrest your mate," Eric pointed out dryly, cutting her off.

"Are we still on this?" Danni demanded with a snort of disgust that had him biting back a smile that she probably wouldn't appreciate at the moment. "I'm getting punished for something that healed in less than an hour?"

Eric's lips twitched, but he managed to bite back a smile as well. "Yes, well," he said, pausing to clear his throat and hide a chuckle before he continued, "they're afraid that you'd use your position to free your mate."

Danni opened her mouth to argue, but quickly closed it with a shrug before she admitted, "Well, that's probably true."

"The only thing that I care about is my mate getting the blood she needs. Is the council planning on withholding the demon blood from her?" Caine demanded, already deciding that if it was a condition that he would tell the Council to go f.u.c.k themselves. He'd focus his time on finding a cure for his mate instead of helping the Council for one more day. He would never risk her being left dependent on a group that could let her suffer just to punish him.

But before Eric could answer, Chris was there picking Danni up and dropping her on Caine's lap. With a sigh, Chris sat down in Danni's freshly vacated seat, leaned back and relaxed as he studied the men sitting across from them.

"Jacka.s.s," Danni said, glaring at Chris as she adjusted herself on Caine's lap.

Chuckling, he shot Danni a wink as he continued to study the men sitting across from them. "Oh, I doubt they'd do something that foolish," Chris drawled, letting Caine know that he'd heard a good portion of their conversation and wasn't happy.

He saw the pain in the a.s.s shifter sit down on the other side of Chris. The man didn't say a word on their behalf and Caine didn't expect him to. Everyone in the mansion knew how the shifter felt about Pytes and would probably volunteer to take him down if the time ever came. Kale sure as h.e.l.l wasn't about to b.i.t.c.h about one of them suffering when he wanted nothing more than to see every last Pyte wiped off the face of the earth.

"No," Ephraim said, taking the seat to Caine's right with Izzy in his arms, "I doubt they would."

Caine nearly sighed with relief. Ephraim saw Danni as a sister and if anything ever happened to him, he knew that the other man would gladly step up and take care of her. He'd move heaven and h.e.l.l to make sure that Danni didn't suffer. She was part of the Williams family and they viciously protected their own.

"Do what?" Izzy asked, shifting to get more comfortable on her father-in-law's lap.

"Relax, gentlemen," Eric said, taking over the conversation before it could turn ugly. "Even if you broke every single condition of your old probation and Danni broke the nose of every Council Member, we're not going to make her suffer. She'll get her blood."

Caine nodded as relief coursed through his veins. Even though he had no plans of f.u.c.king up anytime soon, it was good to know that his mate would be well taken care of in his absence.

"What's this about hunting Pytes?" Kale asked, sounding hopeful as he managed to shock the h.e.l.l out of him and apparently Ephraim if the man's startled expression was any indication.

"What?" Danni asked, frowning in confusion.

Eric sighed heavily as he leaned back in his chair. "The Masters are at war again."

"They're always at war," Caine pointed out, wondering why all of a sudden a war between Masters was enough to grant him his freedom.

"True," Eric nodded as he gestured to them, "but this time they're fighting over Pytes."

"f.u.c.k me," Chris breathed, obviously realizing exactly what that meant for everyone in the room and for the innocent children living in the house that meant the world to them. "I thought the Council wanted the Pytes to expand their numbers."

"Have they found any yet?" Izzy asked, voicing their fears.

"We're not sure yet," Eric admitted. "We're hoping that we can use your program to find out."

"Of course," Izzy murmured, carefully climbing off her father-in-law's lap so that she could go to her mate, who would need the comfort that only Sentinel mates could provide.

As Chris picked Izzy up and carefully placed her on his lap, Caine watched as Danni reached over and took Ephraim's hand into hers, knowing the man was probably seconds away from losing control and going into bloodl.u.s.t. Ephraim had three young children, young Pytes that were defenseless until they reached their sixteenth year and welcomed their Pyte transformation. They would also be the perfect targets for Masters looking to get their hands on Pytes.

No one bothered asking why the Masters wanted to get their hands on Pytes. They all knew, had feared this happening for years. They wanted to create an army of faster, stronger vampires and they needed Pytes to do that. Some would kill for a chance at true immortality and would do anything and everything to get their hands on a Pyte with the hopes that they would be turned into a Pyte as well, but most of them would be content with just having a Pyte under their control.

It was something that they could never allow to happen.

"What are the Council's plans for them?" Kale demanded.

"Right now?" Eric asked, before shaking his head. "We have none. Our only plan right now is to remove every Pyte from the Masters grasp that we can before it's too late."

"Are you going to force them to work for the Council?" Caine asked, taking his mate's other hand into his as he prayed that the Council wasn't going to try to do something so monumentally stupid as to try and force a Pyte to work for them.

"No, but if they want to fight, we won't stop them," Eric said and G.o.d help him, but Caine wanted to believe him.

"What's the reward for bringing in Pytes?" Kale, always the mercenary, asked.

"Ten million dollars a piece," Eric said, not missing a beat.

"Twenty," Kale said, his intense gaze never leaving Eric as the man turned to glare at him. "And this mission is under my control."

"Agreed," Eric said softly, letting everyone in the room know just how far the Council was willing to go to stop the Masters from winning.

Kale Quinn was a vicious b.a.s.t.a.r.d and they'd just given him free reign over the Sentinels.

Chapter 7.

Townson, MA One week later.....

Cloe ducked her head to hide her smile as Christofer glared at her. Out of the corner of her eye she could see him rubbing his arm. One would think that after a week he'd learn to control his mouth, but sadly he hadn't. At least it was providing her with endless hours of entertainment.

For the past week they'd seemed to be in a compet.i.tion. Well, he seemed to think that they were at least. Christofer had taken it upon himself to try and take over her job. She had to admit that it was really interesting to watch him try. Every morning she got up to find the kitchen a mess and a cursing Christofer trying to make breakfast for his sister.

She would hide her smile as she quickly put together breakfast and allowed Marta to choose between the two. For some reason Marta always picked her breakfast over Christofer's burnt and somewhat distorted versions. Same thing happened at lunch and dinner. Sometimes he would simply give up when he saw her at the stove and storm off to the barn for a few hours. Every time he lost his patience, which was pretty much every time that he saw her, he would say the two words that would guarantee him a sore spot. It was like a compulsion with him now.

Cloe would do something like the laundry before he could and he would get p.i.s.sed when Marta thanked her. Those two little words were always followed by the thump of Marta's cane and a few choice words from Christofer as he glared accusingly at her. About five days ago she'd stopped counting how many times she'd been fired. She was pretty sure it was up to two hundred and fifty, give or take a few cane swats.

"I can see you smiling," he bit out.

She simply shrugged as she focused on her blueberry m.u.f.fin.

"f.u.c.king tattle tale," he muttered followed by, "Ow!"

Cloe smiled sweetly as she looked over at him, holding up the plate of m.u.f.fins she'd made and with an innocent expression asked, "m.u.f.fin?"

He glared first at her and then at the plate of m.u.f.fins before his eyes shot to the burnt French toast that he'd tried to make. He opened his mouth and she knew what was coming.

"Don't even think about it, Christofer," Marta said. "My arm is starting to get sore from tapping you."

"Good! Then maybe you'll stop!"

For a moment, Marta looked thoughtful while she broke off a chunk of m.u.f.fin and made a show of eating it. Christofer's eyes narrowed on the action before he glared accusingly at Cloe.

"No, I don't think that I will," Marta said before she focused back on her paper.

Christofer mumbled something under his breath while he stared at her. Cloe sighed as she picked up the m.u.f.fin plate and brought it to the counter, knowing he wouldn't eat any of it. He never did. According to Marta, he was on a special protein diet. She didn't question it since she knew what a b.i.t.c.h a metabolic disorder could be on a person.

"Cloe, could you please give me a ride into town this morning? I would like to spend most of the day at the Senior Center."

Cloe smiled. For the last four days Marta had spent her mornings at the Senior Center. She suspected that a certain Mr. Goodfellow had something to do with it, but she wasn't going to say anything, mostly because of the man sulking at the table.

"Sure, I can do that on my way to the hardware store," Cloe said, immediately regretting the slip when Christofer's head snapped back in her direction.

"Why are you going to the hardware store?" Christofer demanded.

Marta of course answered. Cloe was willing to bet the woman was enjoying thumbing her nose up at her brother.

"She's picking up the supplies to paint the house."

"The h.e.l.l she is! That's my job."

"Uh huh," Cloe sighed. Just like everything else, he only wanted to do it so that she couldn't. "I'm ready to go if you are, Marta."

Marta pushed her empty plate towards Christofer and grabbed her purse and cane. "I'm ready."

Christofer dug his hands into his pockets to keep from strangling little Miss Perfect whose m.u.f.fins always came out looking like m.u.f.fins, making his look like dog s.h.i.t on crack cocaine.

He almost ran into Cloe when she suddenly stopped in front of him. "Marta, do you want me to pack you a sandwich?"

No, she doesn't, Christofer thought smugly. Granted, it was his fault that his sister couldn't stomach eating sandwiches any longer, but that was beside the point. There was finally something that little Miss Perfect could offer his sister that Marta wouldn't accept.

"No, thank you, dear," Marta answered from the front hall.

"Guess she doesn't like your cooking after all," he whispered close to her ear, deciding to rub it in.

Cloe looked over her shoulder at him, giving him a knowing smile. "I bet she never asked for seconds when you used to cook, now did she?"

He glared at her, feeling his teeth try to push through. She was getting on his last d.a.m.n nerve. He should just do the world a favor and put her over his knee and spank that beautiful a.s.s of hers.

She reached back and petted his cheek with a coy little smile that instantly set his blood on fire. "Just because she eats my cooking doesn't mean that she likes yours any less," she said, somewhat appeasing him. She started to walk away only to pause and look over her shoulder with a teasing smile as she added, "Of course, it doesn't mean that she likes it any more either." She gave him a wink before walking away, leaving him fuming.

He was still fuming a minute later when he followed Cloe and Marta outside. Cloe raised an eyebrow in his direction. "And what do you think you're doing?"

"I'm coming with you," he said as he walked past her, s.n.a.t.c.hing her keys out of her hand. "And I'm driving."

"That's fine with me. I never turn down a cute chauffer," she said teasingly as she climbed in the backseat, leaving him stunned.

Did she just call him cute? The horn honking startled him and brought his glare to Marta who gestured at her watch impatiently.

"They start Bingo in twenty minutes. Hurry, Christofer!"

He rolled his eyes as he climbed in the driver's seat and adjusted it and then readjusted it. d.a.m.n, she was a short little thing. Of course he liked that. He liked that she looked small and made him want to wrap his arms around her and- "Comfy?" she asked wryly from the backseat.

-strangle her.

His eyes met hers in the mirror and she smiled sweetly and, definitely, innocently back at him.

"Christofer!" Marta said impatiently.

"Give me a minute, woman, while I adjust the seat from midget to man-sized," he grunted as he shifted the seat again.

"Too bad everything in the driver's seat isn't man-sized," Cloe muttered under her breath, too low for the human ear to catch, but not for him.

"I heard that!"

Her brows arched as she frowned at him. "No, you didn't."

"I a.s.sure you, sweetheart, everything is sized correctly," he said, looking in the rearview mirror, shooting her a wink as his words. .h.i.t home.

Christofer decided then and there that he really liked it when she blushed. Marta sputtered something about him moving his b.u.t.t and Cloe looked out the window. Her cheeks were still bright red when he pulled in front of the Senior Center ten minutes later. Before he could get out and help her, Marta was climbing out and a man in his seventies was standing there smiling at her and giving her a hand.

Before Christofer could demand an introduction to the man who was manhandling his sister, Marta waved him off and headed inside the building.

"Stop it. I think it's cute," Cloe said as she climbed between the two front seats to get to the front pa.s.senger seat. No doubt she feared that he would drive away if she stepped out to switch seats. He probably would, he thought with a smirk.

"I don't know why, but that little smile is making me nervous," Cloe mumbled.

"As it should, sweetheart. As it should," he said with a grin as he pulled out of the parking lot and headed for the hardware store.

"What about-" Cloe started to say only to be immediately shot down.

"No, I want white," Christofer, the most stubborn man on earth, said.

"Don't you even want to look at any other colors?" she asked, gesturing to a plethora of color samples set up on the back wall.

He pursed his lips up thoughtfully as he stepped closer. Instead of stepping around her to look at the samples though, he stepped up right behind her.

Cloe tried to step away only to find herself boxed in by his large body. He put a hand on her hip and leaned over her like it was the most natural thing in the world to do. She sucked in a breath and closed her eyes, trying to force herself to remain calm.

"Hmmm, these are okay I guess," she heard Christofer say, sounding as though he was far away instead of right behind her.

She could feel her heart pounding against her chest as she tried to convince herself that she was not locked in place. She could move. She could. She had the entire store to move around. There was no way that she was trapped in this small s.p.a.ce. None. If she wanted to move she could.

"Are you okay?" Christofer suddenly asked, breaking through the tension that threatened to bring her to her knees.